Monday, July 6, 2015

French Riviera

Tomorrow I'm off to Nice for a few days. I suppose I'll have to go to the beach, won't I? Every summer I go to the beach because I feel like I ought to, and then I'm reminded how much I don't care about the beach. It's lovely being near the water, but sand is horrible; it gets in my bags and my hair and in every crevice of my body and I hate it. Maybe the beaches in Nice are pebble? One can only hope.

I also hope there's a breeze. Toulouse is so humid. I'm fairly certain I'm melting. Or I'm losing all my body weight in water. I've never been so sweaty in my whole life. It's gross--no other way to put it.

Today I went to get a salad for lunch, as I didn't want to buy new groceries before my trip. The salad came with two small pieces of buttered bread in it. I was also given a roll larger than my fist. Then the owner came around and gave a cookie to everyone who was eating there. Why is the obesity crisis in America again?

I also bought a beautiful notebook today at La Mucca, a store that specializes in paper products. The notebook I brought with me is almost filled up, because I guess I'm a writer or something. Speaking of which, I ought to type up what I wrote earlier, and then pack. Ciao, mes amis. We'll talk when I return from the Côte d'Azur. 

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